The Arts Conference 2007 that convened at Willow Creek last month brought together nearly 5,000 artists, teachers, and leaders who are using their God-given gifts and abilities to serve the local church. In the days since the event, the entire team here at WCA has experienced a renewed sense of joy and optimism on behalf of Christ and His Kingdom. The feeling has another name: hope. We are hopeful because we see deep commitment by God’s artists and teachers to honestly, effectively, and lovingly convey His life-changing message of hope week after week. To that end we say, “God is with you!” And with that spirit of hope, which you’ve engendered in us, we stand even more ready to serve you and your team in the days ahead.



Take a moment to check out the many resources available to you from the recent Arts Conference, including the free MP3 download of Pete Scazzero’s session on Emotionally Healthy Spirituality and the 2008 Arts Conference discount rate good through August 21. Also, be watching here for details on new regional gatherings for church arts teams, coming up around the country this fall and spring. Our current thinking includes event locations in New York, Southern California, Texas and Seattle.

Since the Arts Conference last month, a number of you have contacted us for information about a poem by Sam Shoemaker, quoted by Nancy Beach in her session entitled The Audacity of Hope. This article is an adaptation of a portion of that message which includes Shoemaker’s poem, I Stand at the Door.

This past year, I taught a weekend service based on the song by the Fray, How to Save a Life.  That song captivated our culture, and its message struck deep:  How do you save the life of someone you really care about?



A Friend of Sinners
As followers of Jesus Christ, He is our example for how to save a life, so as I prepared for the message I spent a lot of time studying how Jesus spent His time on this earth.  The religious leaders were incensed that He hung out with drunkards, tax collectors, and prostitutes.  They gave him a three-word description intended to be a scathing criticism.  He was called a “friend of sinners.”  Jesus made it clear that His mission, the entire reason He came to our planet, was to seek and to save those who are lost.  He didn’t come to condemn the world, but to save it.

I think a lot of us Christians—myself included—are much better at condemning sinners than being their friend.  In the presence of people engaged in sin, who are demonstrating a lack of morals and integrity, it’s easy to find ourselves revolted, to want to avoid contact, to judge. I’m quite certain, however, that Jesus wouldn’t have that same reaction. Jesus, in the presence of sinners, offered compassion and a radical and bold kind of love that invited a response. Even if they rejected Him, He still made people feel He was approachable.  If there was any chance at all one of them wanted to talk, Jesus would have listened.  That’s what a friend of sinners does.  Judgment and condemnation are replaced with mercy and love.  That’s how to save a life.

Dewitt Jones, National Geographic photographer, opened the 2007 Arts Conference with an inspiring presentation that melded his experience on the creative process with his breathtaking images. Dewitt has graciously agreed to allow us to make that presentation available on DVD for a very limited time for $45 plus shipping. If you’d like to order a copy, you must do so by next Monday, July 16. Click here for details. On the subject of hope, Dewitt recently wrote an article about finding hope in nature for a photographic publication. As a follow up to our conference theme, Hallelujah: What’s Right with the World, he’s given us permission to share it with you here as well.

My back hurts! I wish I could say I strained it during a good hard hike or carrying my cameras to the top of some fabulous mountain, but it's deeper than that. I've had an unfused lumbar vertebra since birth (spondylolisthesis), and as I get older, it's finally catching up to me. I've tried everything except surgery, and it still hurts. The odds are good that the pain will just be part of my life going forward.



So how does one deal? I'm a pretty optimistic guy, but there are days when it really gets me down, makes me feel about 100 years old, darkens every step I take. Optimism? Come on, how many affirmations can you intone before your brain starts screaming, “Hey, it hurts! Don't tell me it's all getting better, that it will all be just fine! It hurts! Make it stop!”

It's at times like these that I'm really glad I'm a nature photographer. Not so much the photographer part, but the nature part. I've spent my life hanging out among trees and waves and mountains, and it's the lessons I've learned there that really help me now. I recently read a quote by  Vaclav Havel that articulated a feeling that I've so often had while  wandering in nature. “Hope,” he said, “is definitely not the same thing as optimism. Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”